


A Sentinel’s Creed

by Sealie



Series: 'Uhane [13]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Curtain Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-25
Updated: 2017-01-25
Packaged: 2018-09-19 20:32:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9459377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sealie/pseuds/Sealie
Summary: Home and comfortHearts beatBreaths low and deepBoundary markedTerritory secureSleep





	

**Author's Note:**

> Rating: slash, G.   
> Warning: none  
> Spoilers: none  
> Notes:  
> 1\. Sentinel AU fusion with a different socio-political universe to canon –‘Uhane verse.  
> 2\. British English spelling   
> 3\. Fluffy curtain fic  
> Disclaimer: writing for fun not for profit.
> 
> This was written for Springwoof as a Christmas present. She also betaed her own Christmas present. I’m not entirely sure that that is fair :-) but thank you.

**A Sentinel’s Creed.**   
By sealie

The house on Piikoi Street was dark and quiet as the cab pulled up by the flower trellis gate. 

“Thanks.” Danny leaned over the front seat, twenty dollars already in hand. 

“No, no, Sentinel, it’s an hon--” the driver began. 

“Nah, nah, nah,” Danny riposted just as quickly. “I’m off duty. I needed a lift because _sensibly_ , I left my car downtown because I’ve had a couple of beers. Here.” 

The young driver had no choice but to take the money and the substantial tip Danny thrust at him.

Danny rolled out of the rusty yellow cab, and took in a mighty breath of the cool, fragrant night air. He stretched luxuriously; just enough beer to relish the give in ligaments and muscles. He made sure to close the gate behind him. The trees that bordered their property whispered gently in the cool breeze moving inshore. Content, he swaggered down the path to the front door. The house was quiet. He hadn’t expected to be late, but a session down at the HPD had evolved into a Friday night invite for a couple of beers followed by buffalo wings and fries, and maybe another beer. 

Lights chased by shadows strobed against the dark house as the cab manoeuvred on the drive and pulled away. 

Danny crept into their home. A night light sat in the corner of the front room, its warm amber glow welcoming. Family. He made a quick turn around the ground floor, but he knew already that it was secure. Steve wouldn’t be asleep if he hadn’t checked all the doors and windows. Danny scooped up Raggy -- a soft toy, jointly shared by Vel and George -- from under the coffee table, and tossed it into Vel’s empty basket. In the kitchen, the dishes were washed, but were drying on the draining board. 

His family slept above him. It was still early, but the week had been a long one.

He secured his weapon in the cubby under the stairs, and set the thumb-print lock. _A quick shower or bed?_ he debated, as he picked his way up the stairs, navigating the baby gate, stepping over the squeaky second step, and keeping to the left hand side of the landing. As he ascended, two tiny, perfectly round, bright spotlights speared him across the open-plan space of the ground floor. He froze. Gandalf perched on top of the bookshelf directly opposite him. The kitten could probably successfully scale Mount Everest. 

Gandalf’s eyes reflected all the ambient light that a sentinel could see. It was a somewhat unnerving effect, especially with the bloody red cast. _Little demon_. He nodded at the independent kitten and continued on his way. 

He fumbled with the gate at the top of the stairs. The temperature was fractionally warmer on the second floor. Air eddies idly brushed his skin as the ceiling fan slowly turned. 

Second floor check. 

Sentinel eyes. He didn’t need to turn on any harsh, electric lights to watch his charges. 

Grace slept under a tent of a book, one of Steve’s encyclopaedias, splayed across her chest. Danny carefully lifted it free. It was a ton weight. _Discovery and Religious Crisis_? He set it aside, wondering what essay he would be proofing over the weekend. He kissed her forehead and she didn’t peep. He left the door ajar as he crept from her room.

The spare room was still the spare room filled with boxes and crap. Nahele slept in the far corner of the room on a thick air mattress. Above him, half-closed curtains wafted gently, and Diamond glowed bright white in a shaft of moonlight. The cat was curled in the crook behind the teenager’s knees. 

They had to do something about the clutter. It wasn’t right to make the kid make do with a corner of the room. 

Only the clarion calls of trumpets heralding the Crack of Doom would stop them making this Nahele’s room over the weekend, Danny decided. He didn’t venture any further into the room. Danny was determined to make sure that Nahele understood that he now _had_ space. 

Danny slipped into the music room, Steve’s office away from his office downstairs, where George’s trundle bed lived. And apparently Vel. George curled up with Vel. Or Vel curled up with George. Actually, it wasn’t clear who was curling up with whom, since it was basically a puppy pile. Danny sighed, they’d moved Vel’s basket downstairs for a reason, but this was a battle he and Steve weren’t going to win. 

Danny knelt and kissed his son’s forehead, then the collie’s. 

Settling back on his heels, he contemplated the large room. 

They needed to do some serious remodelling. This should be Nahele’s room. He was a teenager, he needed room to grow, and a place to hide. The box room could be George’s room, and with no access to the balcony it was a lot safer for an adventurous toddler. Steve’s sprawling mess would have to be rationalised. He had a space downstairs to work in, opposite the dining table, complete with desk and bookcases. This crap, judging by the light musty scent, had probably not been touched for years and likely was mostly John’s old paper files. The problem was, where would Steve practice his music? The doofus liked to practice behind closed doors, despite the fact Danny could hear him on the moon. 

Tough, the SEAL could deal with moving his music stand into the dining room, and regaling the family with his tedious scales.

And, to be fair, that table with the doily could probably go to Goodwill or an antique store. 

Okay, they were going to take some time off work, guilt Chin and Kono and the rest of their extended family to help, swap out some of his stuff which was in storage, like the double bed, with Steve’s antiquarian crap and ancestors’ detritus, and make this _their_ home. 

Starting this weekend.

Decision made, Danny rocked to his feet, with a little, two-beer fuelled waver back on his heels. He crept out of the room, again leaving the door ajar. 

He slipped into his room, closing the door behind him, and sighed, fondly. 

Steve was fast, fast asleep, flat on his back, arms outstretched, a single thin quilt pushed down to his waist. Still recovering, still a little beaten and bruised from their treatment under Starck’s heavy hand, he slept the sleep of a tired out bunny. His broken ankle emerged from under the bottom of the blanket as if he couldn’t even stand the weight of fabric. The most recent assessment had extended his sick leave, which made him whine constantly, but he had been measured for an aircast, which would be available in a couple of weeks. But not before (Danny made sure).

Like Grace, Steve had been reading, trying to stay awake, but sleeping was inevitable once he lay down. Cast aside, his e-reader had long since entered hibernation mode. Danny slipped into the bathroom without disturbing Steve, quickly dumped his sweaty clothes into the hamper by the sink and stepped into the shower. He pissed down the plughole as he revelled in the play of water across the back of his head. He was going to sleep well tonight. The lime scented soap bubbles were soft and he let himself enjoy the play of moonlight on the bubbles as he washed hair and body. Indigo, violet and purple on the edge of an ultraviolet rainbow was altogether too fascinating. Deliberately, he shook himself and finished up showering. 

Perfunctorily, he conditioned his hair -- as otherwise he would never get a comb through the fine, easily knotted strands, and he didn’t want to lose any more. Leaving his hair wet, but combed, he wrapped a towel around his hips and sauntered back into their bedroom. 

However, Steve hadn’t awoken. 

When Steve slept on his back, he snored.

It wasn’t cute. 

_Ah, well_ , Danny thought, and dried off his chest and butt, and tossed the towel on the floor in the bathroom, just to wind up Steve in the morning. Mr. Environment didn’t believe in washing the towels daily, or tossing them on the floor. The towel, to Danny’s enhanced perception, was now dirty, since the bar had been roasting hot, and he had had to pass by a couple of smokers near the exit. Tossing the towel on the floor made it unacceptably unclean to Steve. Winding up Steve was an added extra; red flag to the bull. 

Danny pulled on a pair of shorts, because with a toddler in the house an early morning visitor was inevitable. Carefully, he picked up the hibernating e-reader and set it on the bedside table, and then scrutinised the bed, looking for Steve’s companion. He had to be somewhere. 

Every other member of the household was accounted for, apart from one. The cat, kitten, teen-kit who was the smallest of their horde, was still getting over a harsh early start in life. What Moku lacked in size he made up for in pure sass. The infernal kit loved to ambush Danny, and Danny had the scratches on his ankles to prove it. 

Steve grunted under his breath, and turned onto his side, instinctively making space for Danny in their big bed. No evil kitten lump squirmed out of his way under the blanket. Dropping to his hands and knees, Danny peered under the bed. He sniffed. In a lived-in house with a multitude of other aromas, tracking by scent was not easy. The litter box now lived outside, and they had put a cat flap in the back door. Perhaps Moku had gone wandering? 

Danny slipped under the covers and spooned around his love. Steve let out a tiny, little sigh and snuggled backwards, in a way he wouldn’t when he was awake. During the day, it was arms across shoulders, large hands on the small of Danny’s back, and possibly Danny’s not-favourite-favourite tugging at the tiny tuft of hair at the base of his skull. Danny smoothed his hand over the cut of Steve’s hip, curving under his navel. The edge of Danny’s little finger brushed soft bristles. He set his hand low and simply relaxed. The touch of warm skin soothed.

A sound -- lighter than a kitten’s whisker quivering -- and Danny cracked open an eye. 

Moku froze, paw lifted. Steve slept on, content and undisturbed by the kitten venturing across his blanket covered hip. Danny raised an eyebrow. 

Moku set his paw down, and his tail popped up, curled at the tip. Caught! The kit dropped low, and glided across Steve’s chest, disappearing out of sight, to no doubt snuggle under the blankets as close to his human as possible. 

Danny tucked his nose in close under Steve’s ear, and inhaled. Citrus and clean, undercut by the lightning-quick scent of the sea, all spoke of Steve.

  
Home and comfort  
Hearts beat  
Breaths low and deep  
Boundary marked  
Territory secure  
Sleep  


_fin_


End file.
